


Mr. Holmes, I Think We're Alike

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Miscommunication, New Friendships, Not Beta Read, Not Britpicked, Relationship Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:10:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Major Sholto bond over their inability to tell the men they love how they feel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Holmes, I Think We're Alike

The call had been completely unexpected, but the invitation the call elicited had been baffling. After the wedding Sherlock had expected to never see or hear from Major Sholto again. It had been a good, attainable plan. Sholto was a recluse and Sherlock had no connection to him outside of John Watson. Unfortunately, Sholto apparently had different plans. It would have been easy to have said no to Sholto, he supposed, but his curiosity had been peaked. What could he possibly have to say to Sherlock?

At the major’s request Sherlock said nothing to John about the meeting. There really hadn’t been much chance of Sherlock telling John about the meeting. He didn’t particularly care to see the two former army men ‘catching up’ and ‘socialising’. That’s what John claimed they did at least. Sherlock preferred the term ‘flirting shamelessly’. Not that he had ever told John that because he couldn’t imagine the fury that would be unleashed with that deduction. Besides there were few things Sherlock wanted less than confirmation of what Sherlock had seen about the past at Mary and John’s wedding.

Almost as much as a surprise as the meeting was the location. The major had asked Sherlock to meet him in a small café. Sherlock had nearly questioned the address, but then he realised after his almost death Sholto would have been forced to see a professional by John. Obviously, his therapist was encouraging him to spend more time out among people. Although why in god’s name he had chosen Sherlock to socialise with was beyond the detective’s grasp.

At the café Sherlock sat impatiently for ten minutes. The primary reason he stayed as long as he did was because he assumed Sholto would struggle with anxiety. Sherlock did occasionally have the ability to be understanding. However even saints have limits and Sherlock had just stood to leave when the man entered. Sholto gave one wary glance around the room before settling on Sherlock and approaching. He’d been socialising since the wedding then. Enough so that he was at least moderately more comfortable in small groups. Therapy.

“Mr. Holmes,” he said holding his hand out, “thank you for meeting me.”

“Please call me Sherlock. I was very glad to receive your phone call Major Sholto.”

Sholto’s mouth quirked and he asked, in his quiet way “Were you? Interesting. And please call me James. Let’s be seated.”

Sherlock watched the other man alertly. He desperately wanted to know why he was in this café with him without actually having to ask. Unfortunately Sholto was connected to John, which meant there was an enormous blind spot where Sherlock was normally flawless. They ordered before settling into a silence that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Sholto alternated between glancing at Sherlock and glancing around the room. In a fit of good-nature Sherlock had let Sholto have the seat that put his back to the wall and enabled him to see the room. It left his scars visible but Sherlock assumed the man would be more concerned about safety than appearances. In general Sherlock preferred that seat – to watch out for his own enemies. But if John trusted Sholto then Sherlock was willing to trust him. A bit. This once.

Abruptly he demanded, “Why are we here, Major?”

Sholto’s gaze focused on Sherlock and he offered a quiet smile. The man genuinely seemed to be surrounded by quiet. It was refreshing. “I heard John and Mary got divorced.”

Sherlock’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Of course that was why Major Sholto had called to meet with him. He was doing recon work; he wanted information from Sherlock. All of London seemed to know he was in love with John, except for one very important inhabitant, yet Sholto expected him to have advice? If anything Sherlock knew worked, then wouldn’t Sherlock be with John himself? Of course it might work with someone John had actually been a part of a couple with, rather than someone John rejected, like he did with Sherlock, every time anyone assumed they were a couple. It was possible his advice would work for someone else. Not that he was going to find out.

“I’m afraid I really have no advice on how you could win John back. So sorry.”

Sholto grinned, “I wondered if you’d caught that.”

Well. At least he wasn’t going to try to convince Sherlock that their relationship hadn’t been like that. He looked away disinterestedly and shrugged. “Bit obvious to everyone in the room.”

Sholto chuckled as though Sherlock had been kidding him. As though John’s potential love life with someone who came close to mattering was something one could joke about. Certainly it might be for Sholto since he had had John. Still they’d broken up so Sherlock couldn’t quite find it in himself not to think Sholto an idiot, perhaps even more of one than Anderson. Sholto kept a steady gaze on Sherlock, studying him in the way army men were wont to do. “I didn’t come here for advice, Mr. Holmes. I came to offer some.”

Sherlock’s sharp gaze snapped up to glare at him. “Why would I need advice? From you?”

“Do you remember when you saved my life”--

“Please don’t thank me for that.”

“I wasn’t,” retorted Sholto quickly. Sherlock arched a haughty brow at him in silent question. “John told me at the wedding that you didn’t do it for the thanks or even for me. You did it for the puzzle.” Sherlock nodded in agreement of this assessment. Sholto ignored it and said, “That’s not true though, is it?”

“Of course it is. Ask anyone you want and they’ll tell you that I’m a selfish bastard who doesn’t care about the victims of the crimes I solve.”

“Maybe that’s true. I don’t know what your motivations normally are, but I know in this instance you saved me for John.” Sherlock’s mouth tightened in annoyance but he knew the major wouldn’t be able to tell. “You said as much in the hallway.”

“I said what needed said to stop you from offing yourself at a wedding.”

“Does it count as suicide if someone else put the blade in you?”

Sherlock leaned forward and answered, “It does if you take the blade out knowing your death will be immediate.”

“I suppose that’s a good point.” Sholto said thoughtfully. Sherlock had the impression that he’d just won an argument the major was having with someone else. His therapist, probably. “Although not the one I want to make.” Sholto shook his head, seemingly trying to shake errant thoughts from his mind. “You’re in love with John. At the wedding you”—

“That damnable speech,” burst out Sherlock. “I did exactly what Lestrade told me to do!”

Sholto paused before he asked, curiously, “What did he tell you to do?”

“After he literally threw my speech writing book out the window he told me to forget everything. He suggested I just talk about John and what a good friend he was and funny stories from cases or something.” Sherlock’s brow creased as he continued, “I may have been more sentimental than he’d been expecting.”

The major chuckled and shook his head. “I was talking about in the hallway. You won’t get me to believe that was all a lie. Although your speech was touching.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, pleased when the waitress finally brought their orders. Major Sholto didn’t speak as he cut his ham and cheese in half and placed it on a spare plate. Then he slid it over to Sherlock who eyed it distastefully. “Not hungry.”

“You think I am?” Sholto grumbled. Steadfastly Sherlock refused to eat because he didn’t feel like it. They were in the middle of a case – even if it was minor – and John had made him eat last night. Besides John was the only one Sherlock ever ate for when told. Sholto’s hand tightened on his fork but he didn’t look up at Sherlock. “My… therapist says I have an eating disorder. They’re common amongst soldiers I’m told.”

Damn. Now Sherlock had to eat because he knew how much that confession had cost the major. Also John would be furious if he found out Sherlock had ignored something like that. Still he couldn’t resist pointing out, “Your therapist isn’t here. She’ll hardly know the difference.”

Sholto looked up with a small grin and asked, “How did you figure out my therapist was a woman?”

Sherlock blinked in confusion because he hadn’t deduced that. He shrugged, “I just picked that gender at random. John’s was a woman.”

“Mm. Well, Dr. Thompson won’t know but Mark will.”

“Mark? A love interest. Is that what this is about? You’re interested in someone new but you want to make sure John’s safely settled first? I feel I should tell you that I, in no way, qualify as ‘safe’. Also John’s not gay.” Sherlock popped a bite of food in his mouth with the last line.

“That’s not quite true.”

It wasn’t, was it? John was not gay unless Major Sholto was involved, apparently. He and Sherlock were best mates but the idea of them being a couple was not laughable but infuriately impossible. They were not a couple, he was not gay, don’t know how those rumors got started, and it was all fine. “Is there a point to all of this or has this just become a _chat ___?” Sherlock spat the word out in disgust.

“I’d have probably made my point,” Sholto replied mildly, “if you didn’t interrupt so much.”

Sherlock stared at him in surprise for a moment. Then he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “Ah. I see why John…” He trailed off uncertain how to finish that sentence. He knew what word or words could go in the empty space but he didn’t know that he could say one of them. Not in regards to John and another man. He swallowed, forcing the bits of food he’d eaten to stay down. “I see why John loved you.”

The amused looked on the major’s face dropped away as he gaze fell to his food. Something dark passed over his face as he said, “I wasn’t good for him, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock felt no relief over hearing someone confirm that. Of course the experience hadn’t been good for John. A good gay experience wouldn’t have left him so defensive about his sexuality. “How do you mean?”

“When John and I met I was already his superior. A relationship between people in the same unit is always risky, but a relationship between subordinates and superiors is to be avoid at all costs. John was so bright and determined and he had such a good future ahead of himself. I knew that if people knew that we were a couple they’d judge him. People would think that he used me to get ahead. The last thing John would do is that though. If John couldn’t get where he wanted on his own merit then there was no way John would want to get there any other way. I’ve always admired that about him. He agreed to keep our relationship a secret from everyone. I taught him how to tell a lie while telling the truth.”

“Not gay.” Sherlock intoned flatly.

Sholto nodded. “Yes. At the time Harry had just come out to her parents who… did not take it well. John had sided with Harry of course so he was estranged from them. I was not the first man John had had a relationship with but, to the best of my knowledge, I was the most serious and the last.” There was a pause before he made eye contact with Sherlock again. “Until you I suppose.” Sherlock didn’t deign to respond to that. “In the army there were people who chose to be a couple but kept it private. They had a few select fellow soldiers who knew or at least people at home. No one knew about John and myself. I thought, I assumed it would be for the best.

“I think that it was worse that I didn’t hide my sexuality. It was almost like telling him that there was nothing wrong with being gay, unless he was involved. I made our relationship taboo and something to be ashamed of. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I never meant to play into his insecurities. All I ever wanted to do was protect John’s career. I didn’t take into account the emotional impact it would have on John.” Major Sholto frowned at his food as he pushed it aimlessly around his plate. “I did love him but our relationship left scars on John. I don’t think – no matter what he says, I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.”

“Probably shouldn’t.”

Sholto smiled softly and murmured, “Don’t coddle me, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock didn’t smile back. Most of the story Sherlock could have worked out for himself but that didn’t make it any more palatable. “Oh I won’t.” His answer seemed to give Sholto pleasure. “What was the point of that history?”

Sholto put his fork down and stared at Sherlock earnestly. It was obviously important to him to make Sherlock understand. “I loved John but I made him think he wasn’t enough. I made him think it wasn’t okay for him to openly love a man. I made him think our job was more important than he was. I’m warning you not to make the same mistake. If you want to be in a relationship then you need to ensure that you put John first. He needs that from someone.”

Sherlock glared as a spike of white hot fury shot through him. Coolly he said, “You think I don’t do that? You think there is ever a time when John Watson isn’t at the forefront of my mind? You think I haven’t made hideously erroneous decisions because of my concern for John? You think there is a single thing I would not do for John?”

“I think all of that is true. But I know you do things in such a way so John doesn’t – or won’t have to – notice. If you want to be in a romantic relationship with John my advice is: stop hiding everything you do to put him first.”

“So every time I do something for John I’m supposed to ensure he knows about it? ‘Oh John I stopped us in the middle of a case specifically so you could eat. John I brought us back to Baker Street to think even though somewhere else would have been more convenient so you could sleep. John I played the songs you like in a pathetic attempt to help with your nightmares.’”

“No. I’m not saying that. But making sure he knows you put him first in little things would be nice.”

Sherlock made a face and demanded, “What difference do little things make?”

“Mr. Holmes I’ve read your blog. You know the answer to that question.”

Sherlock shifted uncomfortably because that was true. Irritatingly. “So I’m supposed to pander to John just because you think I’m in love with him?”

“No. You’re supposed to pander to John because you know you’re in love with him.”

When he got home Sherlock resolved to have his mobile number changed. This bloody awful man was infuriating. “Let’s talk about Mark.”

Sholto looked more resigned than anything else. He sighed, “Must we?”

“Fair play. I take it you are not a recluse anymore?”

“My therapist didn’t like it. She encouraged me to go to small gatherings around the area I live. There was a local art gallery hosting a show that she encouraged me to go to.”

“Had she spoken to you?”

Sholto shrugged, “I can sound passably intelligent when I want. She thought I’d enjoy something like that.”

“Moron.”

“I don’t hate art that adamantly. I just don’t care that much about it. It was modern art.” Sholto’s gaze shifted away and glazed over as he murmured, “I will never understand it.”

“Mark,” prompted Sherlock when Sholto didn’t immediately return to the conversation.

“He was one of the artists. He saw me looking uncomfortable so he approached. He… it was comfortable. We became friends.”

“So why aren’t you lovers? Not gay?”

“He’s gay.” Sholto paused, obviously thinking about how much he actually wanted to share. Then he shrugged to himself and continued, “When we met I wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship though.”

Sherlock leaned forward abruptly to stare intently at the major. Like a good military man Sholto didn’t flinch away from his scrutiny. “You’re friends with a gay man that you’re secretly in love with but you won’t say anything. Why?”

“Mark is my friend. I don’t have many friends any more, especially ones who are willing to be open about it. Most are worried about the controversy of my past. Surely you can understand my hesitancy to risk losing my friend.”

“Explain to me why it’s vital I risk my friendship with John for love but you can choose.”

“That’s simple, really. John loves you back. Your risk isn’t nearly as large.”

“Speculation, Major Sholto. What’s wrong with Mark? Is it because he’s an artist? I don’t blame you there. Artists are so needy and eccentric. In uni… well, there was one who was tolerable to say the least. But he was a lot of work.” During his speech Sholto looked amused, but Sherlock didn’t have to wonder why. He knew that everyone thought he was difficult and that he was. But artists were a whole different story.

“Mark isn’t like that.” Sherlock made a disbelieving noise. Sholto still sounded amused as he insisted, “He’s not.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, picking at his food again. “He is a bit younger than me.”

“So is John.”

“He’s a bit younger than John.”

“And you believe age is important?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well legally speaking the only thing that matters about age is whether he’s over the age of consent. Is he?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Sherlock fell back in his seat in disappointment and stared up at the ceiling dramatically. “Dull. Nothing’s in the way. Tell him you love him.”

Sholto wasn’t offended by Sherlock’s apparent loss of interest. He’d learned enough about the man through John’s blog to be surprised Sherlock had lasted as long as he had. He looked down at his food, still pushing it around because he still wasn’t that hungry, and murmured, “It’s easy to cast stones at someone else’s problems.”

Before Sherlock could respond to that bit of nonsense he received a text from Lestrade. “Finally!” He shouted, jumping to his feet. “Major Sholto, pleasure. Good luck with Mark.” Then he ran out of the café while the major watched impassively.

  
The case had been solved nearly six hours after Sherlock’s meeting with Major Sholto. It had been the neighbor – obvious. Still the case had lasted a week, which meant Sherlock had had little sleep in a week’s time. After a few bites of supper John had forced on him Sherlock went to bed. Sleeping the night through after a case was usually beneficial, especially since John had moved in and he was always so concerned about sleep.

Fortunately he had trained himself not to move when his body was suddenly pulled from sleep by an unknown noise. The element of surprise was useful when one was being attacked by one’s enemies. Sherlock knew it wasn’t an enemy though. Even if this hadn’t become a familiar pattern the smell, gait, and breathing pattern were all familiar. There was no surprise when he opened his eyes to find John standing beside his bed. John’s fists were clenched at his sides with a grim set to his face. Nightmare, but a special kind of nightmare. Without a sound Sherlock slipped his arm out from underneath the covers and offered his wrist to the doctor. John found his pulse point and didn’t let go.

Quietly Sherlock asked, “Which was it tonight?” There were three variations of the same thing that haunted John causing him to seek out Sherlock’s pulse. The Fall, Mary, and Moriarty.

“Moriarty,” grunted John.

After a few minutes of the two of them frozen that way, Sherlock laying with his wrist offered and John standing and taking his pulse, Sherlock shifted to sitting position. John didn’t release him and Sherlock didn’t ask him to. Instead he said, “I’m fine. Still very alive.”

“I know.” John murmured. “But you’re terrible at staying alive.”

Well, that was fair enough Sherlock supposed. Rather than agreeing outright, which tended to ignite John’s temper for reasons unknown, Sherlock offered, “Rather terrible at staying dead too.”

John made a noise that could have been a choked laugh or a sob. John tended to be more openly emotional late at night after a nightmare. “It’s late, John. We should sleep.” Would the novelties John Watson inspired in Sherlock never cease? “Get into bed and you can take my pulse all night.”

John released Sherlock and slipped into bed. The two men didn’t touch while John stared at the ceiling. It was impossible for Sherlock to sleep when John was in his bed no matter how exhausted he was. Sometimes John fell asleep right away and sometimes he stayed awake for hours. When he was finally asleep, though, Sherlock could observe him. He could watch his eyes move behind their lids during REM sleep, ponder the dreams swirling in the other man’s head. Watch the even rise and fall of his chest, count the half-seconds between breaths. The lines that had formed during the interval of the The Fall and Sherlock’s resurrection smoothed themselves out during John’s deep sleep. The process involved that mussed John’s blond-grey hair was more fascinating to Sherlock than it reasonably should have been. Finally the beginnings of John waking himself up before Sherlock closed his eyes and faked sleep.

John, careful not to wake Sherlock, would slip out of bed and neither of them would acknowledge anything out of the ordinary had happened. When John had first moved back to Baker Street his showing up in Sherlock’s room and sleeping in Sherlock’s bed had been out of the ordinary. At that time it had baffled the consulting detective as to what it meant. Now he knew it meant comfort for his friend John. Sherlock still wondered sometimes why John was okay sleeping with him if they were not gay together but never asked. It was nice having John in his bed. It was nice being able to pretend that everything he observed was actually his to observe.

When Sherlock deigned to get out of bed John had already showered and dressed and moved onto making himself breakfast. He thrust a slice of toast into Sherlock’s hands almost as soon as he noticed him. Sherlock groaned, “Why is everyone obsessed with food?”

“Essential part of living.” John answered dismissively. Then he frowned, “Who else has been trying to get you to eat?”

“Everyone. Are you going to blog about it?”

“Somebody’s snarky this morning. Lucky me I won’t be here to enjoy it.”

“What? Why not? Where are you going?”

John gave a long-suffering sigh, which meant he’d told Sherlock at least once before but Sherlock had chosen not to listen. “I have work at the surgery today. Please, _please ___, don’t call me at work. I don’t care how interesting the case is I can’t leave.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still concerned about money. Surely the consulting work is making us enough money on its own.”

“Yeah. But I like keeping my doctoring skills sharp.” John answered, waving a hand in good-bye.

Sherlock followed and said, “And I don’t keep them sharp?”

John let out a bark of laughter. “Most people wouldn’t sound so offended.”

 _Most People. ___Most people should stay away from John. Most people should keep their stupid, ordinary opinions to themselves and not bog John down with them. “It’s more fun here.”

“Not the point, Sherlock.”

“Well what is the point?”

John paused in the open front door way to look at Sherlock. “I like doing it. Listen, there’s not even a case on. Probably won’t be for a while. Go upstairs and work on your experiments or something.”

When the door shut Sherlock leaned his forehead against it. He sighed heavily, “It’s no fun without you.”

Damn Major Sholto and his invasive snooping. Yes, he was in love with John and apparently he needed to do something about it. Because he was honestly tired of not being a part of a couple with John. He wanted John Watson in the most innocent and calming way possible. He also wanted John Watson in the filthiest and most overwhelming way possible. No matter what Sherlock knew that he couldn’t get rid of John from his life permanently. However he could at least make an attempt to have John and himself be something more than just friends. According to the advice Sholto had given him Sherlock needed to show John in small ways that he put him first. Since it was true that Sherlock did that it shouldn’t be difficult at all to ensure John actually saw everything.

  
After a week Sherlock realised that showing John how much he comes first was extremely difficult. Most of the time the actual act of putting John first was easy enough, almost second nature by this point, but showing John was hard. It had become Sherlock’s habit to keep things like that secret, first because he had an image as a sociopath to protect and second because he hadn’t wanted to make John uncomfortable. Every time there was an opportunity to let John see he came first it would have made John feel insecure or in the way.

Since Sherlock hadn’t been overly fond of the idea anyway he decided to give it up. In all likelihood Major Sholto’s advice would have been faulty. If for no other reason than it was founded on the belief that John loved Sherlock and was waiting for some sort of opportunity to become a couple. The foundation of the whole plan was obviously weak. It was fine if John and Sherlock remained nothing more than friends. John was a better friend than Sherlock had ever had before. Unrequited love wasn’t nearly as horrible as literature, movies, television, music, and the world made it out to be. It wasn’t nice, but it wasn’t unutterably painful at random and inconvenient times. It _wasn’t ___.

Then one day John came home from surgery looking a little worn and smelling awful. Sherlock met him by the kitchen door with a manic energy. “Ah, John! Your timing is impeccable. Lestrade’s called with a case. It’s not that interesting really but it’s the best we’ve had all week. No, no what you have on is fine. We should leave immediately.” Sherlock stopped suddenly, finally registering that the smell was coming from John and not a mystery area of the flat. “Well, perhaps you should change your clothes. The smell might skew potential date. Hurry! It’s imperative we get to a crime scene as soon as possible.”

“Sherlock! Stop pushing me!” John barked. “Christ! I just get home and you’re already badgering me. You’re the king of deduction. You can’t look at me and deduce I’ve had a terrible day?” John marched over to the sofa and plopped onto it with a groan. “Oh no, you can deduce that I smell like shite but you can’t deduce that it might _actually be shite_.”

Sherlock privately thought John shouldn’t be sitting on the sofa if the faded substance on his clothing was feces. Even if John had, obviously, made the attempt to clean it the stain still smelled. That did not bode well for the sofa. By this point in their relationship Sherlock had learned to not point things like that out to John. Instead he complained, “But the case is interesting. – Enough.”

__“I don’t,” John kicked off one shoe with a satisfying thump, “care,” the other shoe got kicked off. “I’m tired, disgusting, and in a bad mood. I need a break for a few minutes.”_ _

__“Lestrade.” Sherlock snapped. John turned his head to see Sherlock on his mobile. “No, we’re not on our way. I’ve decided not to take the case. -- I don’t see why that should matter to me. The incompetency of the Scotland Yard is your own fault. -- I don’t actually work for you Lestrade so I don’t have to tell you. You should be happy I bothered to call you to tell you I’m not coming at all. John’s influence. Damn man. If you haven’t solved it by tomorrow, call me and perhaps I’ll look into it.”_ _

__Sherlock shoved his mobile into his pocket and turned to look at a gaping John. He smiled, “Takeaway? Chinese? I’ll get it.”_ _

__“What the hell, Sherlock?” John demanded before Sherlock could leave._ _

__“Problem?”_ _

__“You just turned a case down. It’s been a week since your last one.”_ _

__Sherlock’s eyes narrowed and he looked as though he was trying to work something out in his mind. After a moment he said, “Yes. You’re tired and you’ve had a long day. You were right about it being easy to deduce. Don’t worry, Lestrade’s team will never be able to figure the case out by tomorrow. I’m off.”_ _

__John stared at the door after Sherlock had left. That had been completely unexpected. Yes, John was tired and irritated but he hadn’t thought Sherlock would abandon the case. He’d thought that maybe Sherlock would go without him or ahead of him. How could Sherlock have thought he wanted to give up the case? How could Sherlock have given it up after so long without one? With a heavy sigh John rubbed his eyes and muttered, “Damn.”_ _

__His mobile rang, flashing Lestrade’s name before John could come up with a plan. He answered it and Lestrade briskly demanded, “Where the hell are you? Sherlock just called and cancelled a case. Is everything okay?”_ _

__“Yeah. I don’t know what happened. I mean I came home from work and told him I was tired then he called you. Now the maniac’s run off to get us takeaway.”_ _

__There was a heavy pause as Lestrade processed this information. “You mean he ran out of the flat without you after turning down a case? John… you don’t think… is it a danger night?”_ _

__“I don’t know. I mean I yelled at him but it wasn’t any worse than normal.” He sighed, “I’ll check the flat though.”_ _

__“Do you want me to do anything?”_ _

__“No. Just work on the case and I’ll call you later.”_ _

__“Yeah. Call me if you need help.” Lestrade insisted before hanging up._ _

__When Sherlock got home he stood in the doorway for a minute in honest confusion. John had searched the flat, he’d gotten better at hiding it but he had definitely searched the flat. Why? Why had he searched the flat? Tonight wasn’t a danger night. If anything tonight was the opposite of a danger night. He’d found a way to show John that he was first without upsetting John. Normally turning down a case for John so openly would be unacceptable but John had asked for it. He had asked Sherlock to choose him so he had. He’d even gone out to get dinner for them._ _

__“Sherlock?” John’s timid voice snapped Sherlock out of his thoughts._ _

__A quick study revealed John was nervous, upset, and mercifully clean. Based on the way he was staring at Sherlock John was worried. Sherlock felt himself deflate under the weight that fact carried with it. It was so inconceivable to John that he would come first in Sherlock’s mind that he thought drugs came before himself. He placed the takeaway on the kitchen table with very precise movements. “There are no drugs, John. You should start without me. I’ll be back.”_ _

__“Sherlock.”_ _

__“It’s fine, John.”_ _

__Sherlock went to his bedroom, not to mope though because that would be absurd. No he had a call to make so he could disabuse someone of their ill-conceived ideal. He waited impatiently before the call was answered with a slightly wary, “Hello?”_ _

__“I just thought I’d call to tell you that you wrong.”_ _

__There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Mr. Holmes? How did you get this number? I called you from a land line last time.”_ _

__“Nicked it from John.” Sherlock dismissed. “I _showed ___him that he comes first and he performed a drugs search.”_ _

___“Why would he do that?”_ _ _

___“Because – oh. You don’t know? Interesting. I have a slight history with drugs. It’s irrelevant now though. You were wrong about John needing to see he comes first. I showed him and he didn’t see. That’s all I wanted you to know.” Sherlock explained briskly. “Good-bye Major Sholto.”_ _ _

___“Wait. What did you do?”_ _ _

___“John came home upset and tired from work so I told Lestrade that I’d changed my mind about taking a case.” Sherlock explained quickly. There was a very loud silence that made Sherlock tense. “What?”_ _ _

___“Nothing. I just thought you were going to do something small.”_ _ _

___“John specifically asked not to take a case.”_ _ _

___“Right,” drawled the major, “but it’s a widely known fact that you rely on cases. Perhaps it is best known to John. I don’t think the circumstances matter that much, if you turn a case down that you’ve accepted there must be a large reason.”_ _ _

___Sherlock sat on his bed and frowned at the floor. That was an excellent point actually. John was not normally this frustrating, especially after all this time, but apparently he still had the ability. Sherlock sighed, “Hence the amateur drugs bust. Well what am I supposed to do? Everything is too big! What? Am I supposed to make him tea?”_ _ _

___“Do you not do that very often?”_ _ _

___“Of course not. John makes tea. Why would I need to bother with all of that?”_ _ _

___Sholto huffed a laugh before he asked, “Have you ever made him tea?”_ _ _

___Sherlock hesitated because he had a feeling Sholto was not going to like his answer very much. He straightened his posture and answered, “Yes of course I have. – It may not have been exactly what some would consider “safe” to ingest. No, John was never in any _real ___danger. I was monitoring him and half the time he wasn’t aware of the drugs.”_ _ _

____“The lost Wednesday.” Sholto murmured, amusement lacing his voice. “Why don’t you make him tea and not poison it?”_ _ _ _

____“ _Tea? ___You want me to show John that he’s first by making him tea? I don’t know, Major, it doesn’t seem quite British enough.”_ _ _ _

_____“It would get the point across without suffocating him underneath it.” Sholto said mildly._ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock’s mouth tightened. He tried to remember why he had bothered calling the man in the first place. He was obviously completely mad. “So how is Mark?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Deflection, Mr. Holmes.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“A bit of your own, Major Sholto.”_ _ _ _ _

He chuckled, “Fair point. He’s doing well. Actually he’s a bit distracted right now because of a piece he’s working on.” 

_______ _ _ _

_____Sherlock asked, “Have you finally confessed your love for him?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“No more so than you. If you’re so determined to see that happen, why don’t you give me suggestions?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Hmm. That could be an interesting exercise. Not very challenging though since he’s obviously in love with you.” The major made a small noise that Sherlock ignored. He tapped his fingers against his thigh and asked, “What are your hobbies?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I… well, I like to garden.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You have a gardener.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“True. I also have a greenhouse. I spend a considerable amount of time there. It’s… I developed the hobby after I came home.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh! Brilliant. Send him a love letter through flowers. Use the Victorian language of flowers.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t think Mark knows the Victorian language of flowers.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock grinned, “But you do. Interesting. So when the letter’s complete send him a book on the language. Simple.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sholto sighed warily, “Isn’t it always?”_ _ _ _ _

_____There was a knock on Sherlock’s door and John’s muffled voice coming through as he said, “Sherlock? Are you okay?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Gotta go,” whispered Sherlock before he threw the mobile amongst his pillows. John’s knocking increased in volume and annoyance before Sherlock was able to answer. He offered a grin, a manic one from the off-kilter feel of it, and said, “Sorry. Dinner?”_ _ _ _ _

_____John frowned, glancing behind Sherlock curiously. “I thought I heard voices.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock nodded, “Probably did. I was talking to myself. It was stupid, don’t worry. Dinner?” Sherlock slipped past John, not really caring if the doctor went into his room. “Honestly John you could have at least gotten the plates out.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John gave a final look around Sherlock’s room before he followed. “What were you talking about? With yourself?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I imagine you can come up with any number of possible scenarios. Just chose one of those.” Sherlock replied dismissively._ _ _ _ _

_____“You’re angry with me. Sherlock, I’m sorry. But you have to admit that you deciding to take back your offer to help with a case was odd.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yes. It was a good deduction,” murmured Sherlock. “Wrong but based on past behavior relatively sound.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Sherlock.” John nearly dropped the plate Sherlock practically threw at him._ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock whirled out of the kitchen before John could say any more. It wasn’t surprising even if it was disappointing. He hated the idea of Sherlock thinking that John didn’t trust him and thought of him as just a junkie. Suddenly Sherlock popped his head back into the kitchen and asked, “Was it feces?”_ _ _ _ _

_____John blinked at him in confusion. “What?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“The… smell. Was it feces?”_ _ _ _ _

_____He laughed, “No. Small favors, yeah? I’ll tell you the whole disgusting story while you eat.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock nodded then his head disappeared. He called out, “You know “gross” things don’t bother me while I eat.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Probably because your body is half-starved and unwilling to give up the rare occasion of food.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m sorry, Dr. Watson, condescending tones don’t pass well through the flat walls. Could you repeat that?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I said you’re an arsehole.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Mm. No. I still didn’t get that. You should probably just stop talking altogether.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John laughed as he made his way to the sofa. Casually John asked, “So are you ever going to explain to me why you decided to turn the case down?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock paused with his food halfway to his mouth and gave John a blank look. “You asked me to.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John blinked in surprise. “Sherlock… I mean, that’s really thoughtful of you, but I didn’t mean to give up the case. I just needed a few minutes, yeah? We still could have gone on the case.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What’s done is done. It wasn’t that interesting of a case anyway.” Sherlock explained dismissively. “If it wasn’t feces then why did you ask me to deduce that it was?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“The stain. If it wasn’t feces then why were you upset with me for not deducing that it was feces?”_ _ _ _ _

_____John chuckled and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I guess I’ll tell you the whole story now.”_ _ _ _ _

_____They sat together on the couch swapping stories and trying to make each other laugh. Sherlock knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night because of the boredom. It didn’t matter though. John was relaxing and smiling at him and a few hours of sleep were pointless. John was what mattered. In these moments, small moments that Sherlock ordinarily hated, it was extraordinary that John couldn’t see every facet of Sherlock’s love for him in the gestures and faces he made, the words he said, and the look Sherlock couldn’t ever seem to quash in his eyes. As always John saw but did not observe. It was for the best really._ _ _ _ _

_____It was surprising when the next day after the case was solved Sherlock found himself calling Major Sholto again. There was something calming about the major that made Sherlock not hate talking to him. Plus he knew John and had stories about John. The ones that weren’t about them being a couple Sherlock craved and badgered until he got them. In return he offered advice to Sholto about what to do with Mark. Most of his advice was to simply tell the man since Sherlock honestly saw nothing standing in Sholto’s way. Unfortunately Sholto usually responded with some comment about other people’s problems and parallels._ _ _ _ _

_____Based off of Major Sholto’s advice Sherlock made tea for John more often. Once the suspicion had passed John seemed to enjoy it. Small things were so much harder to accomplish for Sherlock than the big ones. Jumping off of roofs, getting shot, turning cases down, pausing cases, and getting rid of drugs were all easy enough because it meant John’s continued existence either in general or in Sherlock’s life. Making tea, quietly watching a mind numbingly boring movie, remembering things John said that Sherlock didn’t want to remember, and allowing John to go to the surgery with minimal complaint were all difficult because without them John would still be there. The only thing that made the experience bearable at all was the knowledge that it would make John happy. A happy John Watson in Sherlock’s life was truly the best kind of John Watson there was._ _ _ _ _

_____Two months passed in which John and Sherlock did not become a couple. However John was more affectionate than normal. Small things like pats on the back, a squeeze on the shoulder, using Sherlock as leverage to keep himself upright while he was sitting and John was standing, and even hugs when Sherlock escaped life threatening situations. It proved that doing small things had some benefit. Major Sholto also came to be counted among the few people that numbered as Sherlock’s friend. The man was intelligent in an odd way. He had an extensive knowledge of the oddest things. Gardening, the Victorian language of flowers, the ecosystem of coral reefs, 18th century firearms, in-depth knowledge of Shakespeare, complete with memorization of scenes, and a working knowledge of most of the philosophers from ancient Greece and Rome. It was easy to understand why John had fallen in love with the major. Sherlock hated him for it even as he enjoyed his conversation._ _ _ _ _

_____Occasionally, though not often, Sherlock and Major Sholto even met at the original café. Sholto would bring photos of Mark’s work for Sherlock to give his opinion on and deduce things about Mark with. These outings mostly only happened when John and Mark were both busy though. The only person who seemed to be aware of the new friendship was Mycroft, who cheated it should be pointed out, and he had just looked doubtful and questioned the necessity of having so many “friends”, because surely one was enough._ _ _ _ _

_____  
Then John called to say he was working late so Sherlock called Sholto for dinner. It was the first time they would be going somewhere other than the café but Sherlock didn’t want to spend the evening alone. Normally he preferred solitude but it was one of the rare nights he wanted someone around him. Major Sholto was nice for those nights because he was interesting to talk to but he was also quiet. It was almost as nice as John, not quite but close._ _ _ _ _

_____It was amusing to Sherlock that Angelo didn’t assume Sholto was his date. Angelo was thrilled to meet another friend of Sherlock’s but didn’t entertain even the possibility that this might be a date. Whereas no matter how many times John argued it was always a date with them. “So,” asked Sholto after they were seated, “what is John doing tonight?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What makes you think that John is doing anything? Maybe I left him at home.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“We only ever go out when John is out. So?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock hesitated, not wanting to give Sholto the satisfaction of being right. In the end he admitted, “He’s working late at the surgery.” Sholto gave a smug grin that grated on Sherlock’s nerves. “What about Mark?”_ _ _ _ _

_____There was a slight shift in Sholto’s expression, more a micro-shift than an actual shift. Silently Sherlock cursed himself and his damnable knack for finding the weakness in people. He knew where Mark was, obvious, but he’d asked about it anyway. He struggled to keep his face impassive and let Sholto answer the question. “Mark had a date tonight.” Sholto smiled blandly and shrugged, “So you see? Your call was something of a relief actually.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You could have called me.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I know. I would have eventually. Talking to you is always something of an adventure, Mr. Holmes.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock nodded his agreement then leaned forward and demanded, “Tell me about Mark’s date. Surely he must have given you some details. Give them to me and I’ll explain to you why it’s wrong.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Sherlock? My god it is you.” Both men turned to see Lestrade standing there with a bag of takeaway. Sherlock scowled at him because this meant that John would most likely learn about the evening. Lestrade’s eyebrows rose as he saw Sherlock’s companion. “Hi. Major Sholto, right?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yes. Good to see you again, Mr. Lestrade.” Sholto said with an offered hand._ _ _ _ _

_____“Particularly under such nicer circumstances.” Sherlock muttered darkly._ _ _ _ _

_____Lestrade glared at him but asked, “So is John around?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock looked baffled by this question. “Of course not. Why would John be around? This is a two person table and there are already two people sitting at the table. Major Sholto and myself. The real question is why are you interrupting us?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Out of the corner of his eye Sherlock saw Sholto suppress a smile but didn’t know why. Lestrade was staring at him with an expression akin to shock. “Yeah… right. I… guess I’ll… just, uh… leave you to it then. Bye… Sherlock. Sholto.”_ _ _ _ _

_____After Lestrade was out of ear shot Sholto chuckled. Sherlock frowned, “What’s wrong? Why are you doing that? What’s funny?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You just implied we were on a date.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh. He’s not that big of an idiot.” Sherlock scoffed._ _ _ _ _

_____  
It was really, very much none of his business. Lestrade knew that he needed to just ignore it and go home to eat his takeaway. It involved Sherlock though so that was never going to happen. No matter how long Lestrade knew the great git he would always worry about Sherlock. So he phoned John. “Hi. Yeah, John, where are you tonight?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“The surgery. I had a bit of work to catch up on. I get off soon though. Why?” John answered distractedly._ _ _ _ _

_____“No reason. I just wondered… how you felt about the whole situation with Sherlock.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh god. Listen, Greg, I’m sorry for whatever he did but”—_ _ _ _ _

_____“No. No. I meant the,” he hesitated, “date. Sherlock is on. Now.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Date? Christ. Is he on a case?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Not for me.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John paused and made a thoughtful noise. “Wonder what case he’s working then.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Lestrade hesitated again because he had a feeling John was wrong about this. He wasn’t going to pretend to understand John and Sherlock’s relationship but he thought it went a bit deeper than friendship. Not that he blamed John for being confused since he knew firsthand how hard it was to pin down the feelings of a Holmes. He cleared his throat and said, “Actually I don’t think it was a case. I think… it was a date. A real date. Sherlock was on a date that was real. I think.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John laughed, “No. You’re wrong.” The long silence from the other end made John tense. “Where did you see them?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Angelo’s.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“See? That proves it. Sherlock would never bring a date to Angelo’s. Something else is going on here. I appreciate the concern, Greg but I wouldn’t worry about it.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Okay. As long as everything is fine. Sorry to bother you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“No bother. Thanks. Tell Mycroft I said hi.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oi! You bastard. You promised to keep that a secret.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“It is. It’s also hilarious.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Bugger off.” Lestrade grumbled before hanging up._ _ _ _ _

_____John was still chuckling to himself as he hung up and tried to get back to work. He didn’t really think that Sherlock was on a date, unless a case was involved. Although Lestrade had seemed pretty certain it wasn’t a case and, despite was Sherlock said, the man wasn’t stupid. If it wasn’t a real date and wasn’t a case then what could it be, though? Sherlock could be a colossal idiot sometimes for all that he was a genius. John deliberated with himself for less than a minute before deciding he needed to check up on the Great Consulting Bastard._ _ _ _ _

_____When John got to Angelo’s he glanced around the dining room distractedly. If something was going to happen it was going to happen quickly with Sherlock. He was so absorbed in finding Sherlock that he didn't notice the tall, stocky man with a buzz cut and nearly black eyes until he bumped into him. John blinked at them for a moment in surprise, because he hadn't known a person could have eyes that dark, before apologizing. In the middle of the apology, though, he finally spotted Sherlock and broke off. He felt more than saw the man look in the direction of the table clearly curious about what had caught John's attention. Together they stared at the table unmoving and tense for longer than could have been considered normal. Before John could move the other man marched over to the table. John looked at the short, lanky red head the other man had obviously been with and raised his brows. The red head was too busy glaring at, what John assumed was, his date. More than a little confused John made his way over to the table._ _ _ _ _

_____“James?” The black-eyed man demanded sharply._ _ _ _ _

_____John was surprised – paralyzingly stunned – to see James Sholto and Sherlock Holmes seated together. “Mark?” James questioned in surprise._ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock grinned up at Mark and unabashedly said, “Hello.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Irritated by the grin John snapped, “Sherlock!”_ _ _ _ _

_____There was a deep level of satisfaction that came from watching Sherlock jerk so hard he knocked into the table and spilled his drink on him. He glared at his pants as he dabbed at the stain delicately. “I’m sending Lestrade a bill for these pants.” He grumbled._ _ _ _ _

_____“What is going on here?” Mark asked angrily._ _ _ _ _

_____The gleam in Sherlock’s eyes as he looked up at Mark made John’s stomach knot. “What,” he asked urbanely, “do you think is going on?”_ _ _ _ _

_____A muscle in Mark’s cheek twitched as he gritted out, “It looks like you’re on a date.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Looks can be deceiving but so often what you see is exactly right.” Sherlock said with that damn mysterious way of his._ _ _ _ _

_____“So it is a date?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I didn’t say that.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Then what the hell are you saying?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Sorry. Who are you again?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Before Mark could reply James sighed, “Jealousy, Mr. Holmes?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock offered him a smirk and shrugged, “I think it’s working.”_ _ _ _ _

_____James gave him a look that was somewhere between exasperatedly amused and furiously murderous. Otherwise known as the ‘look for Sherlock when he’s a git’. Then James turned to John and asked, “What do you think?”_ _ _ _ _

_____John’s hand curled into a fist and his jaw set in frustration. “I don’t know. Why don’t you just tell us what’s going on. Sherlock?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Normally seeing Sherlock speechless was gratifying on some level. This was not one of those times. James answered instead. “I called Sherlock about two months ago. We’ve been meeting quite regularly since then.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You’ve been dating someone?” Mark cried while John tried to process this information._ _ _ _ _

_____“Aren’t you on a date?” James asked with a frown._ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock was looking past them as he drawled, “Not anymore.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Mark glanced back in time to see his date storming out of the restaurant. “He doesn’t matter.” He insisted. “You told me you weren’t ready for a romantic relationship.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“When he met you, roughly a year ago, he wasn’t.” Sherlock said smoothly. “Now is a different story.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“So you chose him? I thought…”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You thought what?” Sherlock pressed impatiently._ _ _ _ _

_____“You’ve been cheating on me?” John finally demanded._ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock gave John an irritated look for interrupting before turning back quickly, bemused. “Sorry?”_ _ _ _ _

_____John felt the enormous effort of keeping his temper in check and not physically attacking Sherlock weighing down on him. “You’ve been cheating on me for the last two months?”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock stared at John with same look he’d had when John asked him to be his best man. He blinked rapidly and tried to speak. “I… we…” He cleared his throat, loudly, and shook his head. “We… we’re not… are not a… couple.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John felt the force of those words slam into him just as surely as he had felt the bullet tear into his shoulder. It was amazing how easily the words took his breath away. “Yeah. Yeah, we are. I asked to move in with you!”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You moved back into Baker Street but you always said that didn’t make us a couple before.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Sherlock! I didn’t ask to move into Baker Street. I asked to move in with you! I didn’t bloody well care where we were. What did you think I meant when I went on and on about needing to take things slowly?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I don’t know John! Sometimes you talk about things like that that I don’t understand! I usually just wait for you to explain it!”_ _ _ _ _

_____John stared at him in disbelief for several long minutes. Then he rubbed his forehead and let out a heavy sigh. “So let me get this straight. I’ve been dating you for a year and you had no idea?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You’ve been dating me? What dates?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Oh for – Sherlock. What do you think it meant that I’d make us dinner once a month and force you to eat it at the kitchen table instead of the sofa? I’ve been sleeping in your bed!”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Only sometimes and I thought that was because you were afraid I was going to die.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Are you kidding me? Sherlock, you are dating me and that’s the end of it. Now break up with James.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock stared at John intently and moved closer to him. Slowly he moved to stand directly in front of John. “Will you sleep in my bed more often?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You can’t bargain with me over sleeping conditions, Sherlock.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You ordered me to break up with Major Sholto.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John scoffed, “Well, I…” The bluster left him in a great rush and left him looking deflated. “I… I thought you loved me.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Softly Sherlock said, “John. I’m not dating Major Sholto. Will you sleep in my bed more often?”_ _ _ _ _

_____John smiled in relief and nodded, “Yeah. Yes. Yeah.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Sherlock unleashed his most brilliant smile on him. Then he turned around, pointed at the major, and cried, “Coward!”_ _ _ _ _

_____James rolled his eyes but Mark ignored him. Instead he asked the major, “Why would you say you were dating if you weren’t?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Mr. Holmes implied it because he was hoping to inspire jealousy in you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Which I did.” Sherlock insisted. “I knew I would when I… persuaded you to bring your date here. People are so predictable.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“What did you do?” James asked in shock._ _ _ _ _

_____“It was obvious that Mark had a date tonight and with John working late it was convenient. So I arranged for Mark to have the idea to bring his date here. Which he did. Do you see?” Sherlock explained while James looked frustrated._ _ _ _ _

_____“So you are not dating Sherlock Holmes?” Mark demanded. James shook his head “But you are ready for a romantic relationship? So why didn’t you tell me?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“When I met you I wasn’t ready. And now… well I didn’t think… I thought we were just friends.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“James, the only reason we’re just friends is because you weren’t ready.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“You were on a date tonight.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Mark pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Of course I was on a date tonight. You specifically told me you weren’t ready for a romantic relationship. Every time I’d go longer than a month or so without a date you got uneasy. Like I was trying to trap you or something. I thought you just weren’t ready for me.” He dropped his hand and frowned at the major. “Was it just me?”_ _ _ _ _

_____James gave a quiet chuckle and shook his head. “No. No, of course not. I… Mr. Holmes is a friend of mine and he did this because he knows that I want to date you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Coward.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Mr. Holmes,” sighed James, “you and John may leave now.”_ _ _ _ _

_____John tugged at Sherlock but he resisted long enough to say, “All right but only because Mark is obviously going to take over our dinner and make it a date.” Mark grinned despite himself as he took Sherlock’s seat._ _ _ _ _

_____John practically had to push Sherlock out of the restaurant. Outside they stared at each other for a minute before Sherlock held out his hand. John looked surprised and asked, “You want to hold my hand?”_ _ _ _ _

_____The insecurity that passed over Sherlock’s face, for the briefest of seconds, twisted something in John’s heart. “Are we still not allowed to do that?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“No we are.” John replied firmly as he took Sherlock’s hand. “I just didn’t expect you to want to.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Well there isn’t a case on.” Sherlock nonchalantly said, downplaying the significance. They walked in silence for nearly two blocks, without a destination, before Sherlock released a quick gust of breath. “John? Next time will you tell me when our relationship as changed and not just expect me to know the difference between moving back to Baker Street and moving in with me?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Yes, Sherlock.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Good. That’s good.” John smiled to himself at how out of his element Sherlock obviously was. It was adorable. “Have we told anyone else we’re a couple?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Not officially.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Ha! Officially it is!” Sherlock did not release John’s hand as he whipped out his mobile and began typing on it._ _ _ _ _

_____“I think that can wait, yeah?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Can not. I’ve been waiting on this for very nearly a decade.” Sherlock insisted as he attacked at his phone._ _ _ _ _

_____John smiled affectionately at Sherlock, even though it was lost on the oblivious man. “I love you, Sherlock.”_ _ _ _ _

_____Absently, and without looking up, Sherlock replied, “I love you, John.”_ _ _ _ _

_______ _ _ _


End file.
